


Unravelling

by sleapea



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Canon, Angst, Bisexual Lance (Voltron), Canon Compliant, Gay Keith (Voltron), Hurt Lance (Voltron), Idiots in Love, Im emotional, Keith (Voltron) is Bad at Feelings, Keith finds out about Lance's death/revival from when he saved Allura, Lance confronts him about Naxzela, M/M, Mutual Pining, Romantic Angst, Romantic Fluff, Unresolved Emotional Tension, aka two things I've always been interested in exploring, also, and i love them, klangst, these tags are the worst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-29
Updated: 2018-12-29
Packaged: 2019-09-30 03:42:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,123
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17216357
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sleapea/pseuds/sleapea
Summary: Keith finds out about Lance’s death/revival when he saved Allura, and Lance confronts him about Naxzela. They’re dumb & in love, as per usual-- --- --“Keith…?” Lance’s voice is muffled as he speaks into Keith’s chest, and Keith feels the vibration of it against his ribcage like a shock. It jolts him awake, and all at once, he realizes what he’s doing. What he’s done.His first instinct is to pull away, he knows that he should pull away… but he doesn’t. Instead, he hesitates, obliging the small part of himself that doesn’t want to let go, whether he likes it or not. It has him lingering in the moment for just a second too long.He hadn’t meant for this to happen.





	Unravelling

**Author's Note:**

> I've always, _always_ wanted the show to address how Keith nearly sacrificed himself during the Naxzela mission. There is no way the team would have never found out, and also no way they would have left it unaddressed. As well... Lance died. He _died_. Nobody... ever mentioned it again?
> 
> pssh nu uh. not in front of my salad. 
> 
> ~ Takes place in season 7, after the team first arrives at the Garrison. ~

Keith is sitting in the busy Garrison cafeteria with Pidge and Hunk when he hears it for the first time. What happened to Lance while he was gone. 

“Wait, what did you just say?” His voice feels dry as it climbs up his throat, rolls from his tongue.  

Pidge and Hunk freeze from across the table where they sit, conversation stopping dead and eyes turning to look at him, questioning. They’d been idly chatting with each other all lunch, but this was the first time Keith had said anything. 

“About what?” Pidge says after a beat of silence, raising a brow as she takes a tentative bite of her sandwich.

He can’t say it. 

_“_ Um… that last part, _”_ is what he manages.

“About the forcefield?” Hunk offers, hesitant. Keith furrows his brows.

“No.” He wishes he could just say it, just ask them about it directly. Stop this stupid back and forth before it even begins. But he _can’t_. “About when Allura revived Shiro. You said — ” 

“That it wasn’t the first time she’d done that? Yeah.” Pidge cuts him off, catching on fast. She says it so casually that it completely unnerves him. How can she be so casual about something like that? Had he really been gone for _that_ long? 

“Yes.” He takes a moment to steady his breath. “She… she brought Lance back to life?”

“Yeah.” Pidge speaks, sharing a worried glance with Hunk. She’s frowning now, deep. “You didn’t know?” 

“No…” His head feels like it’s spinning. He bites at his bottom lip, hoping it’ll ground him. “Allura, she… she… and Lance, he — ”  

It doesn’t.

“He took a hit for her.” Hunk supplies, brows knit in concern. Then, he’s leaning forward, inching toward Keith from across the table like he wants to touch him. But he doesn’t. Instead, he waits.  

“And he…” Keith’s throat tightens around the words, and he chokes. _He can’t say it._

He can’t imagine how the words would feel travelling up his throat, or how they would taste in his mouth, weighing heavy on his tongue. He doesn’t want to. He _can’t._

Pidge’s frown deepens. He knows when he meets her eyes that she understands. Understands what he’s trying to say, and why he can’t bring himself to do it. 

“He died, Keith.” Her tone is soft, hushed, but it still punches the air straight from his lungs. 

Then, he’s standing. It’s abrupt, causing the chair he was sitting in to screech unceremoniously across the tiled floor, and both Pidge and Hunk to blink up at him in surprise. 

He registers everything slowly; that the room’s now completely silent around them, and that everyone is looking at them. Looking at _him_. 

He watches as Pidge flicks a worried glance down at the table and back up at him. Confused, he follows the path her eyes took until he’s staring down at his own hands. His hands, which are currently bracing the edge of the table so hard his knuckles are turning white. It looks as if he’s holding on for dear life.  

Maybe he is. 

“Uh.” He immediately pulls his hands back once he regains his grip on reality, instinctively shoving them deep into his pockets. “Sorry — I… I’m not hungry.”  

Pidge and Hunk just stare at him, dumbly. They nod in unison, which would be comical if he wasn’t currently having a crisis.  

“Ok… uh — see you later.” Is all he can manage. He pleads a tiny _sorry_ to them in his head as he turns on his heel, walking as fast as he possibly can away from that table and away from that room and away from the news that has his heart pounding so hard in his chest it feels like it might burst.

  

——— 

  

Sometimes, it feels like there’s a wire in his stomach.

After lunch with Hunk and Pidge, he feels the wire coil tight. It holds taut as Keith attends the rest of his meetings for the day, keeping his expression neutral, but doing little to stifle the heat in his chest. 

The wire doesn’t give until after dinner, when he finally has some time alone. He trains until he forgets who he is, forgets why he’s here, forgets his own name. Until he’s out of breath, near exhaustion as he slumps to his knees and back into reality. His body is heavy with the weight of his training, and it makes the knot in his stomach feel like it’s sinking. 

Only when he stills does the wire completely unravel. 

 

———

 

Lance had died. He’d _died_. It passes through his mind, over and over and over again.

_He’d died, He’d died, He’d died, He’d died —_

And Keith hadn’t been there. Hadn’t been there for the team, hadn’t been there for _him_ … hadn’t even known that it had happened until this afternoon. And he’d _died_. 

It makes him feel sick, it makes him feel afraid; and it makes him feel more vulnerable than he’s ever felt, even more so than when he’d fought Kuron on that abandoned base. Kuron had stripped him bare, using his greatest insecurities against him, but he’d known that Shiro would never do that to him. He’d known that Shiro would never truly leave him. But Lance? 

He’d always been just out of Keith’s reach, and Keith had learned to be okay with that, because he’d always been safe. Even if Keith couldn’t touch him, he could still feel him; still feel his warmth from where it radiated against his outstretched fingertips.

Hearing that he’d died felt like Lance had slipped through the cracks in his fingers. Just like that, gone. And for an instant, in the cafeteria, he’d felt his absence more than he’d ever felt anything in his life. Who knew that a lack of touch could feel so heavy… so empty, and so cold. Keith found himself thinking he should have held on more tightly. If only he’d held on more tightly… 

He wasn’t going to make the same mistake twice.

 

———

 

He doesn’t know what time it is, all he knows is that it’s late. Maybe 2am? 3? He doesn’t know, and he doesn’t particularly care. 

What he does know is that he can’t sleep, and that if he spends one more second in the tight confines of his room, he might lose his mind. 

He makes his way into the hallway, breathing a small sigh of relief as he trades the stagnant air of his room for the cool, open air outside. The walls are grey and the hall itself is bereft of anything beyond necessity, much like the rooms they’d all been temporarily assigned. Pidge had been excited about the rooms, going on about how modern and advanced the Garrison dorms were. Lance had simply laid a palm flat against the wall, talking to no one in particular as he brushed a thumb over the smooth metal surface and whispered that he found them cold. 

Now, as Keith makes his way down the empty hall, pocket lights along the walls flickering to life as they sense his motion, he shivers.

What he wants to do, above all else, is find Lance. He wants nothing more than to see him, swears it would be enough to just _see_ him. But he knows himself, and he knows deep down that it wouldn’t be. If he really does see Lance right now, he won’t be able to stop himself from reaching out and touching him, holding him, feeling him. Lance’s ability to make Keith lose his nerve has always been uncanny, but this time, he feels especially volatile. Like his emotions are a ticking bomb, and that seeing Lance will be what sets them off. 

And… Keith had been gone for a long, long time. He rarely spoke to Lance or anyone on the team while he was away, and he still hadn’t properly spoken to Lance since his return. With Earth currently under siege and the stress of an impending battle looming over them all, he just can’t find it in himself to overwhelm Lance with this, no matter how much he wants to. 

So instead, he makes his way to the small, tired excuse of a kitchen within their quarters, hoping that a glass of water will help the dryness that’s once again settled in his throat. When he rounds the corner and faces into the kitchen, his resolve completely melts. 

He sees him, standing there in the low fluorescent lights of the kitchen. 

_Lance._

At the sight of him, every nerve, every muscle in his body, feels like it lights on fire.

Lance has bags under his eyes, and under the faint glow of the open refrigerator door, his expression looks weary and tired. Despite this, when he turns to look up at Keith, the surprise on his face quickly melts into a soft smile, and all Keith can think is that he looks beautiful. 

The burning swallows him whole. 

His body enters the kitchen, but his mind stays at the doorway. Distantly, he registers the sound of the fridge door closing with a soft _click,_ the sound of someone gasping, something warm against his chest and in his arms. Everything else is lost to the heat in his chest, the fire that spreads through his veins with each pump of his heart. 

If he stays here, the burning will stop, he thinks. The body in his arms is warm, but somehow, it quells the ache in his chest. 

Slowly, his mind takes one step into the room, and then another. It walks through the dark and the ash and it whispers into his ear — 

_You shouldn’t be doing this._

It’s breath is cold, and Keith wonders why it feels so heavy. He feels it as it inhales against his neck, like it’s about to speak, but instead, someone else says his name. 

 

———

 

“Keith…?” Lance’s voice is muffled as he speaks into Keith’s chest, and Keith feels the vibration of it against his ribcage like a shock. It jolts him awake, and all at once, he realizes what he’s doing. What he’s done.

His first instinct is to pull away, he _knows_ that he should pull away… but he doesn’t. Instead, he hesitates, obliging the small part of himself that doesn’t want to let go, whether he likes it or not. It has him lingering in the moment for just a second too long.

He hadn’t meant for this to happen.

“Keith?” Another shock, but this time, Keith’s common sense finally catches up with him. He places both hands on Lance’s shoulders and pulls back, motion harsh. Instantly, he winces, swearing at himself under his breath and dropping his hands from Lance’s shoulders. He opens his mouth to apologize but, when he meets Lance’s gaze, the words catch in his throat. It’s clear and blue and bright and so _full_ \- full of confusion, apprehension, and worry… yet, it’s so sincere that it sends a shiver down his spine. Right now, it simply feels like too much. It feels _heavy_. Keith collapses under it, immediately averting his eyes. 

“I’m sorry,” he whispers to the space between their chests. 

“Are you okay?” Lance’s voice is soft as he speaks, almost hesitant. Keith keeps his eyes down until he feels something squeeze just above his left elbow. When he looks back up, he’s surprised to see Lance holding the side of his arm. 

“I… don’t know,” he admits, honestly. “I just… when I saw you, I didn’t even think. I just reacted, and —” he stops when he feels Lance squeeze his arm again, firm and gentle. In the silence, he feels panic begin to rise in his chest like a tide. His breath stutters as he struggles to find something to hold onto, to anchor him. 

“Keith.” Lance’s voice is still quiet, but there’s a silent command hidden beneath it now. Something about it grounds him, and he finds himself holding Lance’s eyes amidst the tide. It’s jarring… how a simple gaze can both send him over the edge and catch him at the bottom.

When Keith doesn’t look away, Lance’s answering smile is reassuring. “It’s okay.” At least, Keith’s sure that’s how he’d meant it to come across. The softness of it, the way it’s accompanied by a light stroke of Lance’s thumb across his forearm, has him cracking. 

“You never told me.” Keith’s voice is low and dry, and it grates the air between them. Distantly, he can feel blunt nails digging into the soft flesh of his palms, his knuckles tight and clenched into fists at his sides. “You never told me… that you…” 

“That I…?” Lance raises a single brow, coaxing him. 

He can’t say it, so he keeps going. His chest feels like it’s breaking, screaming for air, as he completes his sentence in one, quiet breath. “You… I didn’t know that you saved Allura.” He watches as Lance’s brows crease, as he struggles to understand what Keith’s trying to say. Keith grapples in the silence for a few moments, taking his time before he speaks again.

“I didn’t know that she…” His voice cracks, and he has to clear his throat before continuing. “Had to save you, too.” Keith watches as Lance’s eyes widen, realization dawning on his face. He immediately winces at the memory, and removes his hand from Keith’s forearm to nervously rub at the back of his neck. 

“Oh.” Lance breathes, and the shock leaves his face almost as soon as it appears. It’s replaced by a nervous laugh that doesn’t meet his eyes, the sound completely lacking of the carefree ease Keith is used to. “Oh, that. Yeah… I mean, it wasn’t a big deal.” He shrugs casually, like they could have been discussing the weather. 

“It wasn’t a big deal?” Keith repeats, mostly to himself. The tide begins to stir, and the water begins to buckle. It pulls back, only to come crashing back over him like a wave.

_Draw back, crash. Draw back, crash. Draw back—_  

“Of course it is!” Keith’s outburst is sudden, and he sees the surprise on Lance’s face like it could be his own. “How could that not be a big deal?” His voice is intense, almost pleading. Lance’s expression fades, his surprise morphing into something unreadable.

“How can you say that?” The question catches Keith off guard, and he stills. 

“What?” 

“Did you think I wouldn’t know? That Matt wouldn’t tell us?” Now, Lance’s expression looks pained. Keith can’t understand why, he can’t figure out why, until…

_Oh._

He grimaces, and Lance takes a small step forward. 

“I had to find out from Matt, you know. While you were gone.” Lance’s gaze is steady as he holds Keith’s eyes, but his voice shakes. “What happened when we saved Naxzela.” Keith tries to speak, but Lance presses forward.

“What you were going to do, what you almost _did.”_ Something in Lance’s tone breaks, and his eyes begin to swim. Still, he never takes his eyes from Keith’s. _“_ And you were gone! I couldn’t even talk to you, couldn’t even _reach_ you…” He stills then, taking in a shaky, determined breath. 

“Matt assumed I knew. He assumed that… you would’ve already told me.” Lance’s voice cracks over the words, and his pursuit crumbles. He breaks their gaze for the first time as his breath catches, causing a frustrated blush to make it’s way up his neck and to the tips of his ears. 

Although Keith likes to vehemently deny it, he’s weak when it comes to Lance. The sight of Lance open and vulnerable _did_ something to him - it doused all his fires and stole his inhibitions. The last thing he wants, the last thing he ever wants, is for Lance to be hurt or upset, and that feeling stirs something in him. It has him stepping forward, cupping Lance’s cheeks in his hands, and angling Lance’s head up gently so that he can see his face. Lance is hesitant to meet his eyes, but eventually, he does. 

When their eyes meet, Lance breaks. A tear falls down his cheek, and he hiccups as his efforts to hold back completely dissolve in its wake. The dam breaks, and more and more tears begin to spill down his cheeks. Lance shakes in his grip, and Keith impulsively draws their foreheads together, grip tightening along his jaw. Lance gasps at the contact, but does nothing to move away. Instead, he raises both hands to grasp at Keith’s forearms; not to push, but for support. 

“Did you ever think of how it would have made me feel?” Lance’s voice is small as it breaks their heavy silence, breath uneven. “If something like that ever happened to you?” 

“I couldn’t sit there and do nothing.” Keith’s answer is instant, low. “I couldn’t do nothing knowing that all of you weren’t going to get out of there on time.” 

Suddenly, Lance’s tone is insistent. “No.” He states, and Keith blinks in surprise, drawing their foreheads apart to study his expression. Lance continues, voice indignant despite how it begins to tremble. “You don’t get to leave me, Keith. You don’t get to decide like that. You don’t get to _leave_ me.” Another tear brims his eyes as Lance huffs up at him, voice watery and rough and _stubborn_. Keith strokes the tear away with his thumb, eyes knit in frustration.  

“Well, you don’t get to pretend like your death — “ he chokes on the word, hating the way it sounds, how it feels coming out of his mouth. It takes everything in him to finish his sentence despite the harsh lump in his throat. “— doesn’t matter. That it wouldn’t matter to _me_.” Between his palms, Lance deflates with a heavy sigh. 

“When you left to join the Blade… it was so sudden. And you barely talked to us.” Lance’s response is quiet, but Keith can hear the frustration behind it. The hurt. “I didn’t know for sure if it… if it would still matter to you. If it still did.” He watches as Lance draws in a few shaky breaths, and his heart snaps.

“Jesus Christ, Lance.” He sounds wrecked, but he doesn’t care. “Of course it would matter to me. I swear… everything I’ve ever done is to keep you safe.” Then, he pauses. “Fuck if I’m doing a good job at it, though.” What Keith says settles into the air around them. Lance is the first to break the silence with a low hiccup, and Keith tenses.

But then, Lance is… laughing? Lance’s voice wavers as it stumbles over the garbled, hiccupy laugh that bubbles from his throat, but this time, his smile reaches his eyes. “We’re a mess.”

The laugh bewilders Keith, and he searches Lance’s face with wide, earnest eyes. His brows knit in confusion, and Lance hiccups over another laugh at the sight of Keith’s reaction. “We’re a mess, aren’t we?” He repeats. Lance’s voice is quiet, but it’s lighter now. His eyes are red rimmed and swollen, but they’re looking at him. Looking at him, clear blue softening his edges and drawing him out. 

“Yeah, we are.” Keith says so gently, breathing out a small sigh. He begins to slowly glide his thumb up and down the expanse of Lance’s jawline; soft, soothing. At the touch, Lance gives just a little, body relaxing as he leans into the warmth of Keith’s palm. At the sight, Keith feels his heart swell. He desperately wants Lance to know how important he is to him, but he doesn’t know how to tell him. What he knows for sure is that he can’t leave him again without Lance knowing — the thought pains him too much. Rather, he thinks he might never leave him again at all. 

Guided by the yearning in his chest, he drops one of his hands, the other travelling along Lance’s jaw to the back of his neck where it tangles in the hair at his nape. When his lips meet the soft skin of Lance’s forehead, they press a firm, lingering kiss there. As he draws back, Lance takes a step forward, lowering his head so that it rests on Keith’s shoulder. Keith lets his finger tips card through Lance’s hair, holding him close as he bows his head and exhales warm against the exposed skin of Lance’s neck. Lance shivers, and Keith’s heart aches. 

“Lance, I’m so, so sorry.” Keith pauses, letting his words sink in. He isn’t good at telling people how he feels, but he’s trying. He puts care into every word, every syllable. “I never meant to hurt you. I just didn’t — I didn’t want to worry you.” Lance breaths out, a cross between a sigh and a laugh, and it’s hot against his shoulder.

“I’m always worried when it comes to you, Kogane.” Lance’s voice is muffled, exasperated, but Keith can feel it as he grins small against his skin, and he huffs out a laugh in response. 

“But we’re here.” He says, thoughtfully, and Lance hums against him; quiet, prodding. “We’re a mess… but we’re here.” 

Slowly, Lance pulls back from where he rests against Keith’s shoulder. “You’re here.” He says in affirmation, meeting Keith’s eyes. At the same time, he reaches upward to grip at Keith’s shirt, pressing against his chest. It’s as if he’s trying to prove that Keith is real, and Keith swears he might actually die on the spot. He does nothing to hide the fondness that washes over his features as he smiles down at him. 

“I’m here.” Softly, lovingly, he curls one of his fingers into one of the loose, honeyed strands of hair below Lance’s ear. “And you’re here.” 

“I’m here.” Lance whispers, and it sets a kaleidoscope of butterflies loose in his stomach.  

“We’re here,” he affirms, and a brief, comfortable silence washes over them. But…

“Lance, please, promise me.” For the first time that night, Keith has the wherewithal to get embarrassed. He flushes under Lance’s eyes, but the intensity never leaves his voice. “I care about you… a lot more than you probably even realize. Promise me that you won’t forget that.” 

Lance practically beams up at him, his answering smile sweet as it paints his cheeks. His eyes soften and crinkle around the edges, and he’s so warm, and so, so beautiful — Keith has to take a moment to fully recognize that this expression is his. That it’s for _him_. And he’s so god damn lucky. 

“Promise me, too.” Lance huffs. “I care about you, too. So much.” He’s looking up at him with a slight pout, and there’s a high blush to his cheeks now, and Keith feels like he’s punched for air. He has absolutely no words for what this boy does to him. 

So he says nothing. He leans in, almost abrupt, pressing a burning kiss to Lance’s lips. They’re so soft that, for a second, Keith gets lost in them. Lance blinks in surprise, eyelashes fluttering against Keith’s skin. But then, he melts at the touch. Lance lets Keith lead him in, let’s Keith tell him everything he’s never been able to say. This is the only way Keith knows how to convey this level of emotion, how to communicate it fully, and Lance lets him. Against him, he’s such a balance between soft and hard, of cold and hot; so accepting, but also… a little bit hungry. It sets Keith’s heart on fire. 

Keith breaks them apart for a moment, taking a sharp intake of breath and drinking in the sight of Lance’s face. His eyes are bright and awed, and his lips are now a shade of red that matches the blush still painting the arches of his cheeks. “I promise.” He says for good measure, letting the words sweep hot across Lance’s face. When he reconnects their lips, Lance smiles against them. 

“I —” he says, but Keith swallows it. Keith can feel it as Lance gets taken by the kiss, as it steals his bearings. He can also feel it when Lance snaps out of it, suddenly remembering he had something to say, and as he whines against Keith’s mouth. Lance breaks them apart, laughing slightly, completely breathless. He has just enough time to say “I promise, too,” before Keith is stealing him back, kissing him like he’s always wanted to, like he’s never let himself. Greedily, he swallows every sweet laugh that escapes Lance’s lips, but he adds some of his own, too. 

_I know._

He places a kiss to the corner of Lance’s smile. 

_I know._

To the column of skin between his ear and his throat, to the pulse point against his neck that flutters wildly at his touch.

_I know._

Until he’s lost in him. 

 

**Author's Note:**

> This is the product of weeks worth of writer's block - I'm happy that I pushed myself to finish it, but I'm also a little apprehensive about it. I really hope you like it!!
> 
> \-- --- --
> 
>   
> Click [here](https://linktr.ee/sleapea) for links to my ~socials~ uwu


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